


For You

by PumpkinspiceLou (CatyDreamDwyer)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Harry's a lovesick puppy, M/M, this is literally just shameless fluff, with a gingerbread spiced latte addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 09:16:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8973823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatyDreamDwyer/pseuds/PumpkinspiceLou
Summary: “Niall, I think I’m in love.” 
  Niall looks over his shoulder from where he’s standing in front of the refrigerator. He gives Harry a quizzical look, glancing down at the plate on the kitchen table.    “With the toastie..? Are you sure? I’m pretty sure the bread went off the other day.”   “Not with—with Louis! The guy I told you about; who works at Campus Café.”   “You mean the guy you’ve spoken all of five words to? You’re in love with him?”   “Okay. Maybe not love, but definitely infatuation. But I feel like I could… love him I mean. Like one day. Does that make sense?”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [steadylove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steadylove/gifts).



> Written from the prompt: "Uni student L works in a local coffee shop to pay for his rent. H stops by to get a gingerbread latte once on his way home. He goes there again next week. He swears it's because he really liked the latte and not at all because the boy behind the counter is the most beautiful human to ever walk on earth."
> 
> The song Harry sings as well as the title of this fic is from [For You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wyU9ywcvU-g) by Joe Brooks

Harry squints up at the sky, the sun high and bright in the wide expanse of blue. Despite the rays cutting through the barren branches and licking at his skin, it does little to fight away the chill in his bones. It seems almost like a cruel form of mockery: a sunny day in the middle of winter. Harry tugs the beanie on his head a little bit lower and curls his hands tight inside the sleeves of his jacket, as he makes his way down the steps. 

The wind tickles his cheeks and bites at his nose, and he’s pretty sure both are a bright pink by now. Still, he tries not to think of the harsh winter cold. Instead, he thinks about warmth. He thinks about a warm beach with warm sand and a warm sun beating on his back. He thinks about writing the Dean a very strongly worded letter about closing down the Arts and Humanities Library for renovations. Sure all the books and sources he could need are being stored and readily available at the main campus library. And sure the Peterson Library is big and quite nice on the inside. But the trek all the way across campus is definitively _not_ nice. 

He’s only half way there when the cold begins to nip through the cotton of his gloves, leaving tingles scattering up and down his fingers, a chill already shivering its way down his spine. Harry lets out a sigh, the puff of his breath swirling and dissipating in front of him. 

Harry turns the corner around the engineering building, and finally, the Peterson library comes into sight, but his eyes fall on the Campus Café attached to the building. A little chalkboard sign out front has colourful gingerbread and candy canes drawn on it, and suddenly, Harry is thinking about warmth again. He makes a beeline for the door, a little bell giving a cheerful jingle above him. 

The first thing that hits Harry is the smell of coffee and pastries. It’s warm, though, and Harry is grateful for that. The inside is small, but quaint. There are a few small tables lined along the windows, particles of dust dancing above them in the sunlight bleeding in. On the other side of the café, a few sofas and armchairs are arranged around a coffee table. A few students are lounging there, most with earbuds in and books poised in their laps. 

Another shiver wracks its way through his body, and Harry makes his way towards the counter. He fumbles his wallet from his pocket, his fingers still a bit numb from the biting cold outside and stifles a cough into his elbow. He’s just brushing his hair away from his eyes when a bright voice draws his attention. 

“Hi! Welcome to Campus Café. What can I get for you?” 

Harry looks up only to find the voice is attached to the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen. Light brown hair lays in a soft fringe over golden skin, a few strands tousled near the back of his head. His eyes are a piercing blue that reminds Harry of the crystal sky that always follows a storm. Those eyes are ringed by long, dark lashes that kiss his cheeks with every blink. His cheeks, themselves, are sharp and defined, leading down to a strong jaw sprinkled with stubble. Harry’s eyes continue their downward trek before landing on a name tag, brightly declaring: _LOUIS_. It seems such a fitting name, and Harry wants to test it out, to feel it roll past his lips. His eyes travel back up to Louis’ face and he notices one poised eyebrow is raised expectantly. Harry can already feel an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck to his ears. He opens his mouth, but he seems to have swallowed his tongue and all that comes out is: 

“Ummm…” 

The right side of Louis’ lips quirk up. “Sorry, we don’t serve um here. How about a gingerbread spiced latte instead? They’re a personal favourite.” 

Somehow, Harry finds it in himself to nod. It’s like he’s on autopilot as he pulls out the cash from his wallet and hands it over to Louis. Once Louis has given him the change and receipt, he grabs a cup and a sharpie, his expectant eyes once again falling on Harry. 

“How about a name?” 

Harry is determined to get his cool back. Determined to turn on the charm and give Louis his name, throw in a cheeky grin. Maybe even get brave and give his number instead. But his brain and mouth clearly aren’t on the same page. His lips fall open in a sluggish manner, his tongue feeling heavy. 

“Uh…” 

“’Uh’ it is,” Louis says, scribbling on the cup before turning and walking away. 

Harry can feel burning heat pooling in his cheeks, and he keeps his head down as he shuffles to the other end of the counter to wait for his drink. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and once again finds his eyes glued to Louis. His heads bops along to the soft music playing on the speakers, his hips swaying ever so slightly to the beat as he prepares the drink. Harry bites his lip around a smile and forces his eyes to the ground. He’s so focused on keeping his mind clear, he doesn’t even notice the sound of the coffee machine cutting out. 

“Gingerbread spiced latte for ‘uh’!” a bright voice chirps. 

That heat is back again, swallowing Harry’s whole face and burning his ears. He can also feel that sinking embarrassing feeling clawing its way from his stomach to his throat. A cursory glance around shows a few pairs of eyes are now pinned to him, and Harry has to clear his throat before stepping forward to accept his drink. 

“Come again soon!” Louis says, throwing in a wink.

\- - -

When Harry gets out of class, he can’t help but run a hand through his hair and down his face, exhaustion settling heavy in his bones. He hadn’t slept particularly well last night thanks to the fellow students on his floor preferring mid-week drinking, and his professor’s droning lecture had done little to perk up his brain. His feet shuffle across the quad, and he doesn’t even realise where he’s going until the scent of coffee begins to swirl through the air around him. It piques and crawls across his skin, and when his eyes finally focus, Campus Café stands before him.

It looks the same as it did earlier in the week: soft, yellow lights still paint the inside and the chalkboard sign declaring holiday drinks still sits outside the door. Through the windows, Harry can see some students once again perched amongst the sofas, armchairs, and tables, but Harry’s eyes are drawn to the counter. Standing behind it is a now familiar head of brown hair and bright blue eyes. 

Louis is talking to a customer, his hands gesturing a bit wildly around his head, a wide smile plastered across his cheeks. Harry’s not sure how long he stands frozen in that spot, eyes tracking every move and colourful expression change, but laughter prickles his ears and draws Harry back to reality. He watches the group of giggling students make their way into the library before making his way across the road and into the café. The customer Louis had been speaking to before has moved on, so his eyes are right on Harry as the taller boy pushes through the door. Harry’s steps almost falter and he hopes the way his breath hitches in his lungs and his heart stutters over a beat isn’t audible. He’s pretty sure the blush that creeps up under his collar at Louis’ slow smile is definitely noticeable. 

“Welcome back!” Louis’ bright voice greets. 

Harry smiles sheepishly and sidles up to the counter. “The gingerbread spiced latte was really good.” 

“They’re my favourite for a reason,” Louis says, grabbing a cup and the sharpie. “So another gingerbread spiced latte for ‘uh’?” 

“Actually it’s um…” 

“It’s ‘um’?” 

“No! It’s…” Harry clears his throat. “It’s Harry.” 

“Harry…” Louis says slowly before nodding and scribbling the name on the cup before turning away to prepare the drink. 

When Louis returns, the bright smile has returned. Harry tries not to stare at the way Louis’ lips curl, but he notes the slightly crooked bottom tooth and can’t help but find it endearing. 

“Gingerbread spiced latte for Harry.” 

“Thanks,” Harry says, digging out his wallet. He hands over the correct amount and takes the drink, offering Louis one last shy smile before peeling away from the counter. 

Instead of heading back out into the cold, Harry makes his way over to one of the small tables by the window. He pulls out his laptop, notebook, and a pen from his messenger back, arranging them across the wooden surface. 

Harry’s always preferred to sit by the window as he loves to people watch, but today the people trekking across campus hold little interest for him. Instead, his eyes slink back towards the counter and the barista standing behind it. Louis has his back turned, his shoulder hunched slightly over the phone in his hands. Harry finds himself tracking the line of Louis’ body: the curve where his neck meets his shoulder, the dip of his waist. Louis is somehow the combination of hard edges and soft curves, and Harry is mesmerized by it. It takes almost thirty seconds before Harry is able to force his eyes away and back to his work. 

With a soft sigh, he takes a sip of his latte and opens up his song writing assignment. His hands hover over the keyboard of his laptop for a moment, and Harry can’t help but let out another sigh. He leans back in his seat and lets his eyes slip closed, trying to will his brain to produce words. It’s been an ongoing battle for over a week now, and Harry has to dig his fingers into his temples. He tries to think up a tune, hoping that’ll help, but he keeps drawing up a blank. 

Suddenly, his brain decides to kick in, but instead of supplying words, it’s images of bright eyes and an even brighter smile. It’s the sound of a lilting voice forming around the simple two syllables of his name. And before Harry knows it, his fingers are flying across the keyboard. 

Harry blinks his eyes open, taking in the words scrawled across his screen. His eyes quickly dance back towards the counter before he ducks his head down to smile. He tries to bite it down, but it has a mind of its own. As his mind continues to drift and float, the smile grows and happiness bubbles in his stomach. Harry can’t seem to get the logical side of his brain to kick back into motion. Instead, this aching pull in his heart is drowning it out. It’s settled deep in his chest and leaves warmth crashing through his veins and flooding out any form of rationality. Harry’s not sure he’s ever felt this way, and yet he’s sure he never wants to let this feeling go.

\- - -

“Niall, I think I’m in love.”

Niall looks over his shoulder from where he’s standing in front of the refrigerator. He gives Harry a quizzical look, glancing down at the plate on the kitchen table. 

“With the toastie..? Are you sure? I’m pretty sure the bread went off the other day.” 

“Not with—with Louis! The guy I told you about; who works at Campus Café.” 

“You mean the guy you’ve spoken all of five words to? You’re in love with him?” 

“Okay. Maybe not love, but definitely infatuation. But I feel like I could… love him I mean. Like one day. Does that make sense?” 

Niall closes the refrigerator and leans back against it, a beer in hand. He raises a single eyebrow at Harry, his lips pressed in an unimpressed line. 

“I can’t explain it, Ni, but there’s just something there. I’ve never been much of a believer in love at first sight and yet…” Harry presses a hand to his chest, like he can physically force down the feelings and ache gnawing away there. “I don’t know.” 

“Alright. So what’re you going to do about it?” 

“What do you mean?” 

Niall settles into the seat across from Harry at the table. “I mean what’s your plan?” 

“I was just kind of planning to keep going to the café..?” 

“Really?”

“Um…”

“You know what? With your dimples, it’ll probably work for you.” 

Harry just blinks at Niall a few times before just going back to his dinner, but the next morning, despite having the day off from classes, he packs up his messenger bag and makes his way onto campus and to the Campus Café. 

But as Harry pushes through the doors, he’s greeted with brown eyes instead of the now familiar blue. He tries not to be disappointed, but the sinking feeling claws its way through his chest, leaving icy scars, before settling in his stomach. Somewhere in the far reaches of his mind, he knows he’s being irrational. He knows Louis can’t realistically work every day, that the other boy must have classes. And he can hear Niall’s voice’s laughing about having only spoken five words. And yet something deep between Harry’s ribs twists and turns and yearns. It scrapes at his chest and squeezes at his heart and leaves a sickening coldness inside. Harry has to swallow hard to try and tamper it down. 

“Welcome to Campus Café!” Not-Louis greets in a chipper voice. “What can I get for you?” 

Harry considers just turning around and leaving, maybe trying back later, but instead, he convinces his legs to step up to the counter. He really could use the caffeine. He notes the _LIAM_ scrawled across Not-Louis’ nametag and tries not to scowl. 

“Just a gingerbread latte, please,” Harry says, forcing a polite smile. 

“A great choice,” Liam says, accepting Harry’s cash before grabbing a cup and the sharpie. “Name?” 

“Harry.” 

Liam’s hand freezes where he holds the sharpie poised over the cup. His eyes snap back up to Harry, a slightly wild look to them. Harry’s not quite sure what to make of Liam’s expression, but before he can comment, the chipper smile is back. 

“Coming right up!” 

Liam whips around to prepare the drink, so Harry shuffles down to the end of the counter to wait. He pulls out his phone, sending a few sad face emojis to Niall before aimlessly scrolling through Instagram. 

“Here’s your gingerbread spiced latte.” 

Harry looks up to find Liam staring at him, his eyebrows furrowed. Harry glances around a bit unsure before slowing reaching out to take the proffered drink. “Um thanks?” 

“Be sure to come again!” Liam says, his smile wide but eyes serious. “Like tomorrow… after two…” 

Harry pauses mid sip of his drink, sending Liam a quizzical look. He’s about to question the brunet, but Liam scurries away. Harry stands there for a minute, blinking in confusion before shrugging and heading to the table by the window, deciding he should probably still get some work done.

\- - -

Despite Liam's odd parting words yesterday, Harry still finds himself pushing through Campus Café’s door. And if he waited an extra hour before leaving his house so he’d arrive at 2:20, no one has to know.

Louis has his back to the door, but he turns around at the sound of the jingle. Harry’s sure he imagined it, but he swears he sees Louis’ smile widen. It leaves butterflies fluttering in his stomach and his breath hitching to halt in his lungs. 

"Welcome to Campus Café. What can I get for you?” Louis says, an almost teasing lilt to his voice. 

Harry tries to bite it down, but he can’t help the wide smile that pulls at his cheeks as he sidles up to the counter. Louis’ eyes are as bright as ever, and Harry tries not to distract himself by counting the gold flecks hiding in that sea of blue. 

“Um… a gingerbread spiced latte please,” Harry pushes out. 

“I think you officially have an addiction. I might have to cut you off.” 

“Well, it’d be your fault if I do, since you’re the one who suggested the latte.” 

“That’s the first stage of having a problem, you know: blaming others.” 

“I thought the first stage was denial?” 

“So you accept you have a problem?” 

“Acceptance is definitely the final stage, and I don’t think I’m there yet. I’ll probably have to go to gingerbread spiced latte anonymous first.” 

That startles a laugh out of Louis. It’s as bright as the rest of the boy, the melodious sound bouncing around Harry’s skull until it’s the only thing on his mind. He notes the way Louis’ eyes crinkle, the way he clutches one hand to his stomach as each laugh falls past his lips. Harry isn’t sure if his heart is still beating, but he knows he’d give anything to hear that sound again and again. 

“Gingerbread spiced latte anonymous,” Louis says, one last giggle spilling out. “That’s a good one.” 

Somewhere in the far reaches of his mind, Harry is aware he is frozen in his spot, but he’s not sure he can breathe, let alone speak. He has to swallow hard before he can even think of finding his voice again, his brain playing an audio and visual loop. He’s not sure how long passes before he finally opens his mouth, but then Louis beats him to it. 

“Sorry,” Louis says, delicate fingers reaching up to the strands of his fringe. “I’ll uh get that drink for you.” 

Louis grabs a cup and turns away, leaving Harry to try and get his breathing and brain back in order. When Louis returns, Harry tries to hand over the money for the latte. It’s a bit of an awkward fumble between the two, and their fingers brush before the exchange is done. Harry tries to tell himself he imagined the spark there, that it’s probably just the dry winter air. That doesn’t stop his heart from giving an unfair clench nor his brain from zeroing in on that small point of contact. It doesn’t stop the way his fingers tingle, spreading warmth and goose pimples up his arm. 

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles, cradling the cup in his hands. 

“Any time.” 

A minute of silence passes over them. Harry desperately tries to grasp at something to say, something to keep those eyes on him, something to keep hearing that voice. He tries to think of a joke, so he can be graced with Louis’ laugh again. And yet his brain is failing him, shutting down when he needs it most. 

The jingle of the bell above the door draws both their attention away, two girls entering into the café. Louis quickly moves to greet them while Harry resigns himself to the table by the window. He pulls out his papers and laptop, but his focus is on the sounds of Louis’ voice dancing across the air. It seems to swirl and blanket him, leaving him wanting more. His fingers itch for the guitar tucked away in his bedroom, to try and recreate the music of Louis’ laughter. Instead, he settles for pulling out his music theory notes and dives right in with a sigh.

\- - -

It takes a little over a week, but Harry thinks he’s finally got Louis’ work schedule at Campus Café down. He learns when the barista has the day off or works the evening due to classes. Niall rolls his eyes at him whenever he leaves the house or comes home late, but Harry doesn’t care. He pushes through the doors of Campus Café with a wide smile every time. And every time, he’s greeted with an equally wide smile from Louis.

Each time, Harry orders a gingerbread spiced latte, and he and Louis exchange some small talk. It’s not much, but it’s still the best part of Harry’s day. Sometimes, when his lectures are particularly droning or his workload is especially stressing, he’ll remember his scheduled latte at a certain Campus Café. It always releases whatever knot of tension has built up, leaving him breathing easy again. 

Even if desire for more tries to creep in from the back of his mind, tries to claw its way through his heart, Harry still goes to sleep every night feeling light and happy.

\- - -

“So what do you study?”

Harry looks up from his laptop to find Louis sliding into the seat across from him. Harry’s sitting in his now usual seat by the window, finally making some progress on his song writing assignment. He blinks a few times, watching as Louis sets a water bottle and a packaged sandwich on the table in front of him. Harry can’t help but glance back towards the counter confused before his eyes settle back on Louis. 

"Um… are you supposed to be eating the café’s food?” is what falls past his lips, and Harry has to hold in his groan. He had really thought he got over his lack of brain to mouth filter when it came to Louis. 

Louis quickly darts his eyes to the left and then the right before he leans across the table towards Harry. He beckons Harry forwards with a crooked finger, and Harry leans in too. He can feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickle at being a breath away from Louis, knows he would only have to lean an inch closer for their lips to meet. He holds his breath, eyes trapped in the clear blue of the barista’s. There’s a glint hidden there, and it’s mesmerizing. 

“It’s called a break, Harold,” Louis whispers, his tone conspiratorial. 

Harry can feel heat creep up his neck and settle in his cheeks, but it’s soothed by Louis’ teasing smile. The sight pulls a smile across Harry’s own face. 

Louis settles back into his chair and opens his sandwich. "You never answered my question." 

“Oh. I study music,” Harry says, shutting his laptop to focus solely on Louis. 

“Really? So do you play an instruments?” Louis asks, taking a bite of his sandwich. 

“I mostly play guitar and some piano,” Harry says, fiddling a bit with the hem of his hoodie, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

“That’s cool. I played a bit of piano when I was younger, but I’m really rusty now.” 

“I bet you’re amazing.” 

“You haven’t even heard me play.” 

Harry shrugs, settling his lip between his teeth to try and clamp down on his smile. He’s sure his eyes are hiding nothing, but Louis’ are dancing with mirth, so he lets it go. 

“You’re full of shit, you know that?” Louis teases. 

“Technically I’m full of gingerbread spiced latte,” Harry retorts, taking a sip of his drink to prove his point. 

Louis lets out a laugh at that, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth. The sound leaves warmth pooling in Harry’s chest and the smile across his face taking on a mind of its own. Harry’s left once again wanting to hear that laugh more, and being the cause of it, just makes the desire stronger. He lets his imagination run wild for a moment before Louis calms down and goes back to his lunch, so Harry brings his mind back to the very real boy sitting in front of him. 

“So what do you study?” Harry asks. 

“History. I’ve always been a bit of a history nerd. Especially ancient and medieval.” 

"Really?”

“Oh, yeah. You have no idea.” 

Louis proceeds to tell Harry about some of his favourite moments in history. Harry has never been a fan of the subject, but it’s hard not to be interested the way Louis talks about it. He finds himself enraptured by the way Louis’ eyes seem to light up even more, the way his expression is so animated. Louis talks with his hands and his voice goes a bit higher when he gets excited, and Harry loves every second of it. He takes mental notes of everything Louis says, locks away everything he’s given in his mind. 

Their conversation switches to lectures, and Harry can’t help the cackle pulled out of him as Louis recounts a story about one of his crazy professors. Harry adds in comments and titbits from his own classes, but he’s content to just listen to Louis talk. 

Louis’ break ends too soon for Harry’s liking and he returns behind the counter. Harry tries to go back to his classwork, but his eyes keeping drifting away and stealing glances towards Louis. A few times, Harry swears he can feel eyes on himself as well, and he’s glad Louis can’t see his face as he hides a smile into his shoulder. 

After an hour, Harry decides he should probably head home, so he packs up his messenger bag. Before he reaches the door, though, he chances a glance back towards Louis and offers the barista a wave goodbye. 

“See you tomorrow, Harry!” Louis calls. 

Harry feels like he should be embarrassed that Louis has caught on to his latte schedule, but decides he doesn’t care. The fact that Louis might just look forward to their encounters as much as Harry does just leaves him feeling giddy.

\- - -

Campus Café is crowded for once when Harry pushes through the door. There’s a line to the counter and almost all the seats are taken. Harry’s sure he’s never seen it this busy, but he patiently waits his turn before sidling up to greet Louis. The barista’s hair is a bit frazzled from stressed fingers running through it, and his smile is strained and tired, but Harry still thinks Louis takes his breath away.

“Hey,” Harry says, offering Louis a smile. 

“Hey, Harry. Sorry I can’t really chat today. We’re a bit crazy.” 

“No worries. Just the usual?” 

Louis nods and turns away to prepare the drink. Harry hands over the money when he returns. Louis’ hand lingers as he hands over the latte. Harry can’t say he minds the warmth of Louis’ fingers brushing against his, and he’s sure Louis needs the moment of peace, no matter how short it may be, before diving back into the chaos. So he lets Louis have it before he gives a small smile and pulls his hand and the latte away. 

"Good luck, Lou.” 

“Thanks.” 

Harry turns and leaves then. He contemplates finding a spare table before deciding to just head home. It’s not until Harry is about to throw his cup away that he notices the familiar scrawl across it isn’t his name. Instead there are eleven digits and the message _”since we missed our chat”_. Harry’s glad Niall isn’t home yet to make fun of his reaction. 

After that, Harry and Louis talk every day. If they're not seeing each other at Campus Café, they’re texting or snapchatting one another. And with each passing day, Harry feels like he’s falling a little bit more. It’s an amazing yet terrifying feeling. It’s somewhere between breathless and finally gulping in fresh air. Between floating and sinking, the water cool but crushing. He feels weightless but knows the ground is seconds away from meeting him, and Harry doesn’t even care. With each new fact he learns, his heart clenches, clearing out and leaving space for only _Louislouislouis_. 

He knows it’s too fast; knows that Louis probably only considers him a friend, but this feeling is carved deep into his bones. He wakes up every morning feeling light, especially when there’s a message waiting for him on his phone, and yet when he goes to sleep, that deep rooted ache settles into his chest, pressing so hard that sometimes Harry feels like he can’t breathe. 

It doesn’t help that every time he nears Louis, desire claws its way to the front of his mind. It makes his fingers itch when they’re hands are inches apart across the table as they chat during Louis’ break. It makes goose pimples scatter across his skin when they sit pressed together so Louis can show Harry pictures of his siblings. It makes his heart seize every time he hears Louis’ laugh. And it takes every fibre of will power in him not to close the distance and kiss Louis. 

After a week of it, Harry thinks he might just go insane if he doesn’t do something.

\- - -

Harry fiddles the paper between his fingers. The corner is curled in from his ministrations, but it doesn’t stop him. He takes a deep breath in and out, the flyer crinkling as his fist clenches lightly. He tries to shake any doubts from his head before pushing through the doors to Campus Café.

Louis is standing behind the counter, smile as bright as always. It banishes any lingering negative thoughts from Harry’s mind as he steps up to the counter. 

“Hey, H. Your usual?” 

“Um… not today.” 

“You’re finally kicking your gingerbread spiced latte addiction?” Louis teases. 

Harry tries to laugh, but it falls flat even to his ears. The strain colouring the tone obvious. He tries to offer a smile instead, but judging from the concerned expression Louis is wearing, it must come off as more of a grimace. 

“Everything alright..?” 

Harry looks down at his hands, his fingers already having picked back up his anxious fidgeting. He swallows hard before bringing his eyes back up to meet Louis’. He tries to focus on the blue of them, the gentleness and concern lining the irises. Somehow it soothes the frantic beating of his heart. 

“Um the arts department is having this like gala? I guess? It’s to raise money and um a bunch of students are like showcasing their work and stuff and uh I was wondering if maybe you’d want to go?” Harry stutters out, shoving the flyer forward into Louis’ hands. 

Louis blinks at Harry a few times before glancing down at the paper in his hands. Seconds of silence pass between them as Louis reads, and that panic from before is back to gnawing its way through Harry’s veins. He tries to tamper it down by clenching his fist, but it does little to help. Finally, Louis looks back up, a slow smile pulling its way across his face. 

“I’d love to.” 

Harry fishmouthes, and he’s glad Louis’ eyes dart back to the flyer in his hand, so the barista won’t see. 

“Are you presenting something too?” 

“Um yeah… kinda… I guess.”

“Then I’ll definitely be there.” 

Louis smiles as his eyes meet Harry's again, and Harry feels it like a soothing balm over every inch of his skin. It seeps through his pores and settles in his bones, and just like that, everything in Harry relaxes, a genuine smile making its way across his face. 

“Great,” Harry says, his voice a bit breathless. He clears his throat and tries to get himself back to his senses. “I actually um have to get to rehearsal for the gala though.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah… I’m sorry. I just—”

“No! It’s okay. I get it. So I’ll see you Friday, I guess?” 

“Yeah…” 

Despite his words, Harry doesn’t move from his rooted spot. His eyes stay stuck to Louis’ until the barista raises an eyebrow after a minute has passed. Harry watches as his lips part, knows his name is on the tip of Louis’ tongue. He can already feel that all too familiar flush starting to creep up under his skin. 

“Right,” Harry squeaks out. “Friday.” 

He turns on his heel and heads towards the door, fleeing any further embarrassment.

\- - -

When Friday comes around, Harry is a nervous wreck. Each breath that passes through his lungs catches and stutters. His hands have had a constant tremble since he woke up. And he’s already cut through his lip with all the anxious chewing and biting. Niall has been offering soothing words, but it does little to pacify the loops his mind is running or the sparks jumping in his veins. The most helpful thing Niall does is pour Harry a shot of whiskey.

Harry gets ready for the gala on autopilot. He doesn’t even fully remember dressing or packing up his guitar, but suddenly he’s in the large hall of the Arts and Humanities building. The hall has been decorated in a tasteful black and white theme, tables full of food and drinks pushed off to one end. Projects from the art students line the walls with an aisle of sculptures down the middle. A number of students and teachers are already milling about. Harry recognises a few from his classes, but he’s only looking for one. His eyes dart back and forth, scanning for a familiar head of brown hair. 

“He’ll be here,” a voice says behind him, and Harry whips around to find Niall standing there. 

"How do you know?" 

Niall rolls his eyes at that. “Trust me. Just focus on your act. Everything will work out fine.” 

Harry tries to listen to Niall. He talks with some of his classmates, admires the art, but he can’t help the way his eyes skirt away or glance over his shoulder. He keeps hoping to find piercing blue staring back at him from across the room. Instead, a sinking feeling settles in his gut, weighing down his heart. He tries to swallow past it, but its icy claws dig in deep. 

Eventually, it comes time for the showcase portion for the night, and Harry moves to the greenroom with the other students presenting. He picks aimlessly at his guitar to keep his mind distracted until finally his name is called. He makes his way onto the makeshift stage and settles onto the stool set out for him. He takes a last deep breath before looking out to the audience. 

Almost instantly, his eyes meet familiar blue and a soft smile. Harry’s heart seizes for a moment before pumping relief and warmth through his veins like a tidal wave. He feels determination settle into his bones and leans forward into the microphone. 

“Um hi. I’m Harry Styles and this is an original song I wrote.” 

He starts picking the opening cords of the song, letting the music wash over him and fill him up. 

“I’ve been wondering just how many more days ‘til I see your face. I don’t quite know just how to fill this space where you used to lie.” 

Harry knows all eyes are on him, but he only has eyes for Louis. With each lyric that falls past his lips, he tries to convey every emotion, every feeling that’s equally torn him up and smoothed over every crack inside of him. He lets the words reach out to Louis and hopes his eyes say everything in between. He lays himself bare and hopes Louis will meet him half way. 

“Now I’m aching and I’m breaking inside. And it’s all because of you. It’s all because of you. I fall because of you. And I’m all because of you.” 

When he finishes the song, there’s applause from the whole crowd. Harry can’t help but duck his head at the praise before slipping back to the greenroom as the next act enters. He tucks his guitar safely away in its case before heading back out to the main hall. Louis is waiting from him as soon as he steps through the door, and Harry tries to swallow down the churning feelings storming inside him. 

“Hey,” he greets. “I didn’t think you were coming.” 

“Sorry,” Louis says. “I was supposed to get off in time, but then my stupid manager wanted me to stay late. Luckily, Liam came to my rescue.” 

“Oh.” 

“You were amazing up there.”

“Thanks.” 

“Did you really write that song yourself? I didn’t know you were a songwriter too.” 

“Um yeah. I actually—” 

Before Harry can finish his thought, they’re being interrupted by a girl Harry recognises as Claire from his music theory class. 

“You did really great, Harry.” 

“Oh uh thanks.” 

Claire gives him a smile and nods before disappearing back towards the crowd gathered around the makeshift stage, but it’s as if the damn has broken, other students coming over to offer Harry congratulation and praise. 

“Maybe I should leave you to your adoring fans,” Louis teases from Harry’s side. 

“Actually, did you want to step outside or something?” Harry asks, his bottom lip finding its way between his teeth. 

“Sure.” 

They make it to the doors with minimal stoppage from fellow students, stepping out into the cold, winter night. Some time while they were all inside, it’s started to snow, fluffy white flakes falling softly all around. It blankets the world in a quiet glow as a layer of white settles. 

Both boys stand in comfortable silence, watching the snow continue to float to the ground, but Harry finds his eyes drawn to the boy beside him. Louis’ cheeks have a rosy tinge settled against the tanned skin there, and snowflakes catch in his eyelashes. Everything about him leaves Harry breathless, and in the softness of this perfect winter night, Harry’s sure Louis is the most beautiful person in the world. 

Louis must feel Harry’s gaze on him because he turns his head with a soft smile splayed across his lips, and suddenly every emotion is bubbling over in Harry’s chest. 

“I wrote it for you,” Harry blurts out. 

“What?”

“The song. I wrote it for you.” 

A moment passes between them, and Harry holds his breath as he watches the words sink in and settle across Louis’ face. 

“Oh.” 

It’s a simple word, but it crashes over Harry like a bucket of ice water. There’s a clawing in his chest and in his throat, and suddenly Harry wishes there was a hole in the ground to swallow him up. He squeezes his eyes shut tight for a moment before shaking himself back to reality. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve said that. I didn’t mean to—”

Harry turns to head back into the gala, ready to find Niall and leave this embarrassment behind, when a hand around his wrist stops him. His eyes snap to the contact before drawing up to meet Louis’. 

"Harry..." Louis says, his voice quiet, almost a whisper. Like he doesn't want to disturb the snow and the night. 

Louis steps closer then, into Harry’s space. His free hand slowly reaches up, sliding along Harry’s cheek before settling in his hair. Louis’ fingers are cold from the night’s chill but the touch still leaves a trail of fire along Harry’s skin. Louis leans closer, and Harry knows what’s coming, but he still freezes, his breath caught in his throat. He lets his eyes fall shut, and feels Louis press his lips hesitantly to his own. Harry lets his hands settle on Louis’ waist and the movement seems to spur Louis on to press closer. Harry melts into it, kissing back earnestly. 

Something releases then in Harry’s chest as he stands there kissing Louis. It’s everything he imagined and so much more. Louis’ lips are slightly chapped but they’re still soft and wonderful where they slide and slot against Harry’s. He tastes like spearmint gum and vanilla bean frappuccino, and Harry finds it tantalizing. Everything about the boy pressed against him is amazing and everything he could ever need, and Harry’s heart feels too full to ever want to stop or let go. 

The snow still falls around them; Harry can feel flakes sliding past the collar of his jacket and down his neck, but he doesn’t care. Nothing could ever ruin this perfect moment.

\- - -

Harry pushes through the doors of Campus Café, the bell above giving its familiar jingle. The weather has finally started to warm up outside, winter melting away to spring. It leaves heat trickling at Harry’s back as he steps inside. He still remembers that first time, and yet the café isn’t all that different. The sun’s rays still soak the café in a warm glow. The smell of coffee still permeates the air. And a bright smile still greets Harry from behind the counter. But now, Harry knows that the soft edges to that smile and the fondness dancing in those too blue eyes are meant just for him, and suddenly, the warmth isn’t just outside. It swells inside his chest until its only release is the wide smile pulled across his face.

Louis holds out a coffee cup. 

“Gingerbread spiced latte for Louis’ boyfriend.” 

Harry’s smile only seems to grow. He takes the proffered cup before leaning over the counter and pressing a kiss to Louis’ cheek. Maybe he’d be writing a letter to the Dean thanking her after all. 

_**fin** _

**Author's Note:**

> This was super fun to write, and I hope everyone enjoyed reading! You can follow me on tumblr [here](http://c-e-d-dreamer.tumblr.com/) and find the rebloggable post for this fic [here](http://c-e-d-dreamer.tumblr.com/post/155217990596/for-you-by-pumpkinspicelou-pairing-harry) :)


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